Illuminated
by BabyNeurotic
Summary: She fell for him hard, loved him harder, and was left alone to pick up the pieces after her world came tumbling down around her.
1. Chapter 1

"Friday, July 19th at 4:26 a.m police responded to a disturbance call at 45 Lampkin Lane. Upon arriving they found the body of one….Michael Audrey Myers."

Dr. Loomis paused here to glance up at the girl who sat across from him, watching silently for a moment as she bit at her nails, her eyes distant, before heaving a sigh and continuing.

"Along side his corpse was laid Aidy Trager, a young woman that had been reported missing on September 13th , 1978, after failing to return home after her shift at a local animal shelter had ended. It was long suspected that, for the past three years, Aidy had been traveling with Myers as his vict **-"**

"Do we really have to talk about this, Loomis?"

Her whispered caused him to stop speaking and lower the paper in his hands, placing it in the space between them as he folded his hands together.

"It's been years." She continued after a minute, her dark eyes downcast. "You've been trying to get me to talk about this….for years."

"Maybe that's because you have refused to...for years, Aidy." Loomis replied, watching as Aidy shifted slightly in her seat. "You have to think about it at some point. You have to deal with it…and move on."

"Deal with it?" She said, her chuckle humorless as it fell lamely into the air separating them. "You _really_ think it's that easy, don't you? To just…move on. Like none of it ever happened."

"No, that's not at all what I'm saying, Aidy." The Doctor replied, reaching over to touch her hand only to have it pulled away and hidden in her lap. "You just have to get on with your life."

"My life locked up in a cage." She snapped, her fair eyebrows pulling together. "Yeah, let me run out an do that _real_ quick."

"There's no need for your hospitality, Aid-"

" _Oh for god sakes_ STOP _saying my name!_ " She suddenly yelled as her bandaged fists came down onto the small table with a loud bang.

Over her shoulder he saw the guard step up and pull out his keys in question, to which Loomis only replied with a quick shake of his head.

No, He didn't want help.

This is what he had been working her towards for the passed three years.

She needed this.

"I can't move on. I can't forget." She continued softer, her eyes teetering between rage and panic as they darted left and right. "My memories are all I have left…."

Once again Loomis reached across the table, this time his hand folding over Aidy's smaller one without her snatching it away.

"Then share them with me," He said, his voice low and calm. "Show me who he really was, Aidy."

Silence.

With a steady sigh she sat back, her sandy hair catching the bright and flickering light of the florescents as her head slowly moved from side to sigh.

The scars that marred her pale skin pulled taut as her eyes shut tight, her hands balling into fists as she started the tale that would, in a way, change his life forever.

"My sister was taking Michael and I out trick or treating while our parents went out…." A small smile pulling at the corners of her lips as she spoke, undoubtedly lost in the memory she was seeing. "I was a fairy. My mom had spent weeks on my costume. And Michael….well, he was a clown."

Xxxx

October 31st, 1963

Michael and I sat in the Myers kitchen, already dressed in our costume and ready to go. I watched him from across the table as he sat hunched over and pulling his sandwich apart, starting to slowly pick the tiny chunks of pickle out.

"I thought you liked pickles." I said as I scowled, my words muffled by my mouthful. He shrugged in response, not looking up from his task.

"I like them on burgers." He replied, taking a quick glance up as his mother neared the room. "They make the tuna sour."

I thought for a moment as I chewed, concentrating as I tried to taste what he had meant.

I didn't.

"Are you kids ready to get candy?" his mother asked as she shifted Laurie from one arm to the other, smiling as she gently tugged on her sons flaxen hair.

I replied with glee, starting into a whole speech about the best houses and what candy I wanted to get the most of, baby Laurie laughing at the wide and rapid movements of my arms as I spoke.

Michael replied with a simple nod.

"Still not talking, huh?" His mother frowned, looking down at the pile of uneaten food on his plate. "Is something wrong with my tuna salad, Michael?"

she was met with silence.

"He doesn't want the pickles." I answered for him, watching her head slowly start to nod out the corner of my eye. " _I_ like it."

There was a warm smile on her face when she looked back down to me, her thumb and forefinger squeezing my chin. "Well thank you, darling."

"Mom." Judith groaned as she stepped off the stairs and into the kitchen. Michael's mother seeming not to hear her as she turned away and set Laurie in her highchair. " _Mother!_ "

"What, Judith." She finally sighed as she turned towards the counters, leaning over the sink to open the overhead cupboard.

"Danny just called and asked if I wanted to go to a party." She said, her voice higher than normal and sweeter than any cotton candy I had ever eaten. "Can I go?"

"We've discussed this." Her mother said, her voice tight as she pulled down a few jars of baby food. "I need you to watch Laurie and Michael after he comes home."

"Why can't they stay over at…."she stopped for a moment, casting her gaze over to where I sat thoughtfully.

"Aidy." Her mother supplied in a disapproving tone.

"Aidy's house. I mean…their together all the time anyway. What's two more hours."

"No, Judith. No. Sarah's watching _her_ little sister and _you_ are watching your brother and sister. _End_ of story."

Her words left no room for arguing as she turned and walked out of the room. By the angry red flush that leaked across the tanned apples of Judith's cheeks as she dropped her narrowed eyes from the empty doorway over towards Michael, I knew she knew it too.

"Do us all a favor, weirdo. Don't come home." She said, her voice dripping with a certain kind of venom I had never heard before.

I stared at her in confusion for a moment, watching as she hit the back of Michael's head before turning and walking out, waiting until the click of her heels faded away before speaking.

"Hey-"

"Do you want my pickles?" He interrupted, holding his plate out to me. His eyes were suddenly dark, a strange shadow lurking behind them that I had never seen before.

It scared me.

But still I managed to smile and nod my head, watching as he dumped the unwanted food onto my plate with one of his fingers.

Silence.

"I'm a fairy." I suddenly found myself saying as I broke the quiet around us, smiling wide as I wiggled the wings my mother had sewn on the back of my dress. Michael looked up at me again, pushing his mask up and off his face as he cocked his head slightly to one side, examining my outfit.

"You look more like an angel." He finally said, a small smile pulling at the corners of his pink lips.

Xxxx

"Please?" I begged as Sarah lead me upstairs, her arms crossed against her chest. "I'll help you clean up!"

"No, you won't." she said matter-of-factly, raising an eyebrow. "All you want to do is stay up and watch another moster movie. But I'm sooooo sorry, Aidy. Mom said to put you to bed at eight so you're going to bed. _Now_."

"You're no fun." I mumbled, catching her poorly hidden eye roll before I turned and made my way to my room.

I don't know how long I stayed in bed staring up at my ceiling, counting my way down the lines of white tiles and letting my eyes slowly drift shut.

A sudden rush of red and blue across my eye lids made them snap back open, my head turning towards my window as I kicked my covers off.

My pace was unhurried as I padded across the wood floor, chilled by the brisk autumn winds, and climbing up into my window. My curiosity was at full capacity as I pulled my heavy curtains to the side, my eyes strayed across the glistening pavement, my brow furrowing as my attention was brought to Michael's house.

My heart falling into my stomach.

Xxxx

October 2nd, 1983

"Did you see Michael?" Loomis's voice suddenly said, dragging Aidy out of her thoughts and back into reality.

For a moment all she did was stare over at him, her hands braced against the table, eyes squinted against the dim lighting.

Eventually she answered, her muscles relaxing as she reached over and pulled a cigarette from the pack laying on the table. "No, there where too many cop cars…too many lights."

"But, you _did_ hear about it." Loomis asked, his tone probing, waiting in silence as she started to nod.

"Of course I did. Our street…everybody knew everybody else's shit." She replied, her tone slightly bitter as she took a short puff of her cigarette, picking at one of the scabs on her hand. "And I was best friend so, _of_ _course_ , I was questioned."

"What kind of questions did they ask you?" he found himself asking, his pen poised over his notepad. "Give me the ones you remember."

She sighed, letting her head fall back with a low thud as it hit the back of her chair. "How long have you known him. As he ever spoke about doing something like this before. Has he ever touched you in a way that made you feel bad….blah blah blah." Her eyes turned to look at him. "Why are you even asking me. You saw the police reports, didn't you?"

Loomis decided to ignore her question, wanting to get the subject back onto her.

"Did he?"

Her eyebrows pulled together, confusion written plainly in her eyes as she leaned her elbows against the table. "Did he what?"

"Did he ever touch you in a way that made you feel bad? Uncomfortable?" Loomis clarified, looking up from what he was writing to meet her eyes. "At any point in time."

The look of shock that contorted her face caught him by surprise, her movements slow as she leaned in.

"Are you really asking me that?"

"I was merely curious-"

"You studied Michael for _years…_ and you have the _nerve_ to ask that." She spat, her small nose crinkling as she looked him over. "You tell everybody that you knew him so well….knew every goddamned aspect of his mind. But the truth is you know shit. Shit about him. Shit about me. You know…nothing."

"But it's true you had a miscarriage a week and a half after coming to Smiths Grove, isn't it Aidy?" his voice was low, unsure, as he stepped into uncharted territory.

She sat back in her seat as if she had been slapped, the flash of disgust that burned deep in her eyes setting of alarms in his mind.

"That-" she started, only to cut herself off and snap her face into profile, her lips in a tight white line. "I'm done. I want to go back to my room."

Dammit.

He had lost her.

Letting out a soft sigh he raised his hand and motioned to the guard outside, hearing the door pushed open seconds later.

"Fuck you, Loomis." Was all she said in parting as she was lead out the door, small glimmering blots of moisture pooling in the corners of her eyes.

He just sat there for a moment after the door had swung back shut, listening to the sudden silence around him as he cursed himself for going too far too soon.

With a shake of his heavy head he collected his belongs and headed out.

Oh, well….he would try again tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

She looked unwilling and unhappy as she was ushered back into the interview the next morning, her eyes lowered as she took her seat at the table.

"Good morning, Aidy." Dr. Loomis attempted as he reached into his bag for his notes, her eyes raising to watch him spread the pile of papers in his hands out before him. "Did you sleep well?"

As he had expected he received to answer. Only the slight swipe of cloth as she moved in her seat.

"Alright." He said, looking at the girl sitting across from him. "I am…truly sorry for what I said yesterday. It was…out of the line and, quite frankly, very rude. I hope you can forgive me and trust me enough to continue on with your story."

"What you asked me…-" she started slowly, a slight wave of Dr. Loomis's hand drawing her eyes up from the dull metal of the table to the aged man.

"No, Aidy. I will not push you to tell me until you are ready. It is a very sensitive subject in your life, and I will not hear of it until you are willing to tell me. I only wish to hear what happened next…after Michael was taken away."

She thought for a moment, biting at the inside of her cheek before giving him a quick nod.

"As you can imagine, having your only friend turn out to be a 'Sororicidal manic', as people would soon come to call him….it doesn't bode well for your social image."

"How so?" he asked, not wanting to push her too much.

She shrugged and looked away for a minute. "Little kids can be assholes, Loomis. Anybody who says otherwise is either lying or their child is exceptionally well brain washed."

He nodded, writing down her words as he decided to leave it at that and move on. "When was the next time you saw Michael? Was it in 1978 like you stated in the police report?"

Her smile told him no, her eyes moving to met his once again.

"I was…I think, a junior in high school." She started, reclining in her chair a bit.

'A good sign.' Loomis thought to himself. 'She's getting comfortable.'

"I had finally found out where they had taken him and, after school, I had gone to the nearest pay phone I could find and called my mom to tell her the lie I had been working on all day. That I was going to the library after school to work on a report." she chuckled, biting absent mindedly on her thumb nail. "I must have searched through like…a hundred newspapers until I found the one that told me where he was."

"So you knew where he was, you had the address….did you go?"

"Of course I did." She said, shrugging as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "He was my best friend and I hadn't seen him in….god…eleven years?"

She shook her head and tapped her fingers against the table in no particular rhythm, recounting her math.

"Anyway," she continued after a moment. "I had a hell of a time getting the woman behind the counter to let me see him. But, after like…twenty minutes of begging and talking to four different people, she allowed it.

Xxxx

November 19th, 1974

"Miss….Trager?"

My ears perked up at the sound of my name, my head raising and turning to my left. A woman stood in the door way, her foot shoved against the door as she motioned me over with a flick of her index finger.

"Everything's ready for you to come back now." She continued, watching closely as I nodded excitedly and shoved my book into my backpack, hurrying over.

I didn't so much as glance at the other people in the waiting room or the nurse who held the door open as I rushed in, my hurried stride pausing at the corner as I waited for direction from the woman following close behind me.

"We need to take your bag now, Miss, Trager." The nurse said as we neared a small white table that sat just outside of a large, bolted door. I eyed her curiously and tightened my grip the strap that hung haphazardly over my shoulder.

"Why?" I heard myself asking, my gaze darting towards the rather large man as he lumbered up to my side before returning to the nurse. "I only have my school books in here…

"And I believe you." She replied, but her forced smile and her tight tone told me that she didn't believe me at all. "But, Mr. Myers is a very dangerous man….we would rather you have as little on your person as possible. Just in case."

Just in case what?

He snaps?

Tries to kill me?

Nodding slowly, I let my bag fall into my hand and handed it over, feeling the sudden thrum of uneasiness brewing in the pit of my stomach.

"Wait!" I suddenly said, louder then probably necessary as I plunged my hand down into the front pocket of my bag, my hands wrapping around the wax paper covered object I had put in there earlier that morning.

I watched the nurse eye the item curiously before nodding to the guard, leading him over to the locked door. I followed behind them with oddly heavy feet.

"Do not unchain him." She started, taking a small crumpled piece of paper from her apron pocket. "Do not make any sudden movements or have any physical contact with him at all, I.E hugging or holding hands and so on. " She paused there for a moment, letting it sink into my mind. "Do you understand what I have told you?"

Mutely, I nodded, swallowing loudly.

"It is very rare visits like this are permitted for patients like Mr. Myers." She said, her voice lowering. "Don't screw this up for the other families that have loved ones here."

"I said I understood." My words were jagged, but my tone was weak as I looked over at the woman, her pale eyes narrowed slightly.

"Alright then." She replied, once again gesturing to the guard.

'What if he is completely different…' I couldn't help but wonder as I watched the man unlock the door, swinging it open for me. 'What if he's nothing like the boy I used to know?'

No.

I had come this far, and I wasn't about to let a strangers words scare me off.

Michael was not dangerous.

He was my friend.

"Are you sure you still want to go in, Miss. Trager?" the woman asked, her white dress and hat strangely bright under the lights that lined the ceiling.

I nodded in response, lifting my head slightly. "Yes." I replied, walking past her. "Of course I am."

"Good luck." I heard the deep voice of the guard call from behind me as I walked past.

There was nothing but silence when I entered the room, only the gentle taps of my shoes against the tiled floor echoing against the walls and ceiling.

Never had a door shutting seemed so loud in my entire life as that one, drawing a soft gasp from my lips and a sharp look over my shoulder as the bang seemed to cause the very ground under my feet to quiver and shake. The low click of the lock was the last thing I heard before all went quiet again and I turned my head, glancing around me.

The room was an astonishing size.

Surprisingly large and filled almost completely with picnic tables, the sour smell of pre-made food and bleach lingering thickly in the air, making my eyes burned as I circled my attention towards the walls.

They were covered in various pieces of art. Some drawn, others painted….almost all of them showing bright sunny days and lime green grass. A couple even had people in them. Some hugging or kissing, others just holding hands.

The slight clank of chains rustling caught my attention, pulling my focus away from the walls and over to the picnic table furthest from me, tucked away in a corner and almost completely out of view.

Hesitantly, I started forward. Maneuvering my way through the labyrinth of tables as my eyes stayed forward, all the while staring at the corner until a shape came into view.

It was a man, seated so he could see me when I came in. Only, even from the distance I was, I could tell he wasn't even looking at me. Instead he sat hunched over with his hands in his lap, hidden under the table. His head was bowed towards the table and his shoulders where pulled in slightly, moving every now and then with his breathing.

"Michael?" my voice was little more than a squeak when I spoke, my head inclining slightly trying to make out his face through the curtain of his hair. "Is that you?"

I received no answer, the man seeming as if he hadn't even heard me at all as he continued to stare down at the table, not moving as I stepped up to the table and stopped.

His hair was the same color as Michael's, perhaps a bit darker, but still holding the slight spiral of curls I knew so well. His skin was paler than I remembered, the veins a faint blue color deep under the little skin I could actually see.

My heart ached.

Yes…this was my Michael.

Slowly I sat lowered myself onto the bench facing him, my hands coming to rest on the scratched table top between us.

"Hi, Michael…." I said, letting a small smile to fall onto my suddenly numb lips. "It's good to see you."

Nothing.

Dipping my head a little I attempted to catch his eyes, but found myself unable to see his face at all. Without thinking my hand reached out to brush his hair out of his face as I had so many times before, but this time was very different.

He pulled away as if my touch burned him, his chains chiming noisily as he straightened his back, his head raising for the first time since I had been there.

A rush of cold shock rolled through me as my eyes glided over where his face should have been. But instead of the smile and warmth I had stupidity expected, all I saw was a mask.

A blue, ill made, mask he had probably crafted from left over construction paper and glue.

I took a slow breath and swallowed away the shock and disappointment I felt, once again putting on a small smile.

"How have you been…" I tried again, trying to keep my voice light. "It has been awhile since I last saw you."

Still nothing.

The clock that hung on the wall opposite us slowly spun it's arms around it's faded face, the sadness inside me growing with each of it's quiet ticks.

"I missed you, Michael." My words were quiet when I found my voice again, barely above a whisper. "Did you miss me? At all?"

I watched as his eyelids fluttered, the vibrant blue of his irises finally coming into view as he finally turned them up to look at me. Their piercing stare locked with mine almost immediately, boring into me through the cutouts in his mask.

I couldn't help the short, strangled laugh that forced it's way up my throat as I returned his gaze. My hands stretching out momentarily to reach toward him, only to have me pull them back to my body seconds later.

"Hi, Michael." I said again, my hope renewed. "I'm sorry it took me so long to come and see you."

He remained silent still, staring at me through the shadows of his mask. Watching closely as I looked away, reaching down into my lap.

"I brought you something." I rattled on, bringing up the wax paper and placing it in the empty space in front of him. "It's your favorite.

He turned his attention away from me appraise the object set before him, not making a move to reach for it.

"Pickle free." I said again, chuckling lightly as I tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach as my hope once again started to dwindle away. "I made it myself…"

The silence was growing louder, pounding in my ears as I let my eyes fall down to where my hands twisted around each other in my lap.

Had I made a mistake coming?

Did he not want me there at all?

It certainly didn't seem like he did.

I scowled to myself. 'What could I have done wrong….?'

My mind was buzzing with questions as my eyes started to sting and tears began to blur my vision. This was not the Michael I remembered.

He never would have shut me out like this.

"Please say something." I heard myself say, my voice not far from pleading. "Even when you stopped talking to everybody else…you always spoke to me."

The only response I got was the gentle rustling of fabric as he shifted his feet.

"Don't block me out." I continued, the loud clank of the door shoved open in the distance going unnoticed as I looked up at him once again. "Please don't push me away."

"Miss. Trager?" I heard the nurse from before call from her place at the door. "Visiting hours are ending."

My focus continued on Michael for a moment as I hoped for something, anything, to give me any kind of hope again. But, when I received nothing, I let out a low sigh and a stood to make my way out. I allowed myself to walk a few steps away, my hands clenched at my sides as I went, only to stop at the next table to turn and look at back at him.

Nothing about him had changed in the few seconds I had been moving. He still sat, hunched over, staring down at what I had brought him.

It was all a blur when I moved, my legs taking me across the small distance back to Michael, my arms wrapping themselves tightly around his neck.

I didn't care what the nurse had said.

I didn't care about the hurried footsteps that echoed behind me as they made their way over to us.

I didn't care if Michael pulled away.

He stiffened for a moment after my arms had closed around him, his head cradled against my shoulder as I buried my face in his hair.

I felt him relax after a few seconds, his fingers twitching slightly as if he was fighting against the urge to touch me.

To return my hug.

"I love you, Mikey." I whispered, feeling a heavy hand fall onto my shoulder and pull me away. "I'll come back soon."


End file.
